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Army of the Pharaohs/Celph Titled/Crypt The Warchild/Esoteric/Jedi Mind Tricks
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Lyrics
Yeah... once again, it's like this
A.O.T.P., we runnin' this rap shit now
Celph Titled, we runnin' this rap shit now
E.S., we runnin' this rap shit now
Warchild, niggas runnin' this rap shit now
It's about to be a motherfuckin' slaughter in this bitch
We got the awfulest clips, rusty burners with the rotten rubber grips
We some hardcore crooks, drinkin' rubbing alcohol
Never use a rubber at all, we fuckin' bitches raw
Chokin' up your faculty, turn your whole gang green
Unload the magazine to your knees, give you a gangsta lean
Military minded, on the A-train with a deranged brain
I was buildin' the walls of hell way before the flames came
And bitches love me with a MAC-11
Tellin' a police sketch artist I look like Jon B. with a deadly weapon
Keepin' it ghetto even when it's war, ock
Rockin' jean shorts and a tank top, loadin' shells in the tank top
Aimin' the cannon to blast you where you standin'
You can be in Montana campin', but your head'll land in the Hamptons
Won't grin for the camera when you clickin' it at me
But I'll smile with a gun in my hand, I'm trigger happy
X2
Listen up, it's murder music 'til your wrist is cut
Fire octane nigga, y'all can sip it up
We do this rap shit here so we can live it up
We walk around with hot flames, run and give it up
You could never fatten the level, beyond your God or your Devil
If every God is a pebble (his style's boulder, I told you)
A radical rebel, and yet the jack is full metal
And man I'm hackin' through several
I'm like a soldier, I'll fold you)
I'm blowin' your composure, heat of the moment
I beat me, cleavin' a bleedin' opponent, he didn't want it
These heathens try to eat off me but they repeatedly clone it
This industry is mine, I could put my feet way up on it
I put my people up on it, my sinister and lethal ministry of evil
Turn a Vinny Diesel to a skinny weasel
I'm the pinnacle and steeple of this faction
Feeble men I'm smashin', playin' God? You ain't Jim Caviezel
With a passion automatic, how I'm causin' havoc
I body maggots who thought they brought the static
They probably addicts, I'm fiendin'
For a bag of this antagonistic savageness
You talkin' platinum but ain't crackin' pitchers, battin' averages
X2
Listen up, it's murder music 'til your wrist is cut
Fire octane nigga, y'all can sip it up
We do this rap shit here so we can live it up
We walk around with hot flames, run and give it up
Don't make me leave your fuckin' face broken
I ain't jokin' when I'm flame throwin'
I spit a verse or two to slit your fuckin' veins open
I spit a curse or two just to keep the rain pourin'
I lift the skirt of you to see you pussies ain't workin'
I live to murder you until I see the game's over
We never heard of you and 'cause of that the name's worshipped
(It's the Army, cocksuckers!) Get it correct
Or y'all can find sharp things straight embedded in necks
I rep my team 'til the death, I will slice your people
Wave our flags in the air, plus the knives are lethal
Hottest shit to hit the streets since Nas did "Ether"
Now we pick at your soul and let your conscience eat ya
The takeover, Crypt S. himself
You reap what you sow, so protect your health, nigga!
Yeah, motherfuckers!
That's how we get fuckin' down
A-O-T-P, Vinnie P
Crypt the Warchild, Celph Titled
Esoteric, Chief Kamachi, Planetary, Apathy
X2
Listen up, it's murder music 'til your wrist is cut
Fire octane nigga, y'all can sip it up
We do this rap shit here so we can live it up
We walk around with hot flames, run and give it up